An old journal

January 8, 2013

I was leafing through a journal that I was writing in on and off for a while since about 2009. It had entries about developing characters for a novel. I presume it was for a novel. There were entries where I wrote about my uterine fibroid. I posited that the fibroid was there because my body wanted to give birth, and I guess fulfill my purpose as a woman. I really don’t believe that. I think it was just one of those medical anomalies. I also asked God to shrink my fibroid. I think it actually started growing faster after I made that request.

I got the sense that I was writing in that journal because I was depressed. Most of my abandoned journals are tinged with melancholy. Tinged with melancholy? Where did that come from? I just looked up the phrase and it seems others have used it, where did I get it though?

Anyway, in the past I have turned to writing as a way to ease my depression. I don’t think my therapuetic writing is good writing. I don’t like to go back and read how sorry I felt for myself, and I’m sure no one else wants to either. So I guess there’s someting to be said for writing everyday. If you write everyday you capture the highs, the lows, and all the in-betweens. You get a picture of who and what you really are.

How well do I need to know myself? That’s a strange question. Is it possible not to know yourself well? I think you can live in denial, lots of us live in denial. But we know. Deep down, we know the truth. Sometimes though, it’s hard to know if what you’re hiding from is the truth or an elaborate lie -your own conspiracy theory. Do people suffering from psychosis know the real truth while the rest of us are suffering from delusions? Wouldn’t that be a pickle?

The part of the journal I did like were some of the doodles I drew. I’m probably not a writer at all, but a frustrated visual artist with a little talent and not much skill. Will I ever find the discipline to learn how to draw properly? Maybe when I’ve won those millions of dollars and don’t have to work anymore. I’m still waiting on my millions thank you.

I think I’ve said enough for now. Here’s some old journal doodles (enhanced with Aviary and Instagram filters).